


I Told Her No...

by ReadingMittens



Series: Dick Grayson Angst [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Abuse, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Probably A One-Shot, mentions of abuse, mentions of past rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-11-21 17:05:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11361807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReadingMittens/pseuds/ReadingMittens
Summary: Dealing with PTSD, Dick Grayson believed he had done well with hiding it up until down. To deal with it himself. To hide his emotions.





	I Told Her No...

**Author's Note:**

> I just really wanted to write some intense hurt/comfort for Dick and Jason since my other fic is pretty dark with their relationship. So, warning, there will be flashbacks to Nightwing's rape and implied an abusive relationship between him and Tarantula.
> 
> I also want to apologize in advance if I have offended anyone with my writing of Dick and the rape scene in this. Although I do have my own form of PTSD, I am not a victim of these circumstances and can only go based on research I've done.

_Turning his head away, Nightwing closed his eyes tightly, body tense as he stood on the mostly demolished street._ Bang! _He flinched at the sound of the gun going off, falling to his knees, hunching over. His gloved hands clenched in his hair. It felt like Blockbuster's thick blood was on his hands. It felt like a ton of bricks were pressing against his chest, trying to prevent him from breathing. He didn't deserve to breathe. He was a murderer. He killed someone. Couldn't even watch as it happened. Even now, he sat on the cold, wet ground, fighting for air._

_"No..." His word was faint at the feeling of him being pulled onto a rooftop, a strong arm around his body tightly and the sound of a grappling hook. But he didn't move. Didn't struggle against this. Too many thoughts were running through his head. What was Bruce going to say when he found out? Or Barbara? Tim? Worst of all, Alfred... The very people Dick thought of when letting Tarantula shoot Blockbuster._

_The moment they landed on the rooftop, Nightwing was on his back. The blue and black suit was getting soaked in the cold rain that poured down. But he didn't feel it. All he felt was shame. He had to turn himself in... He would never be able to look at Bruce again. The shaky breaths continued to shake Dick's body as he rambled._

_"What-What have I done... I-I killed-killed him... No... What're you doing..."_

_His voice shook almost as much as his body was, the light feeling of his suit being pulled down. The scarred body of Nightwing was soon revealed to the weight on top of him, more than the ton of bricks he felt. Another person. Yet blue eyes behind his mask remained on the clouded sky._

_"Shh, he's gone. He's dead."_

_"I-I killed him-"_

_"I killed him, Nightwing."_

_"No-I... No... I killed..."_

_His words were cut off by a hand over his mouth. Something was happening. She was doing something to his body. Yet he still didn't move his gaze. Didn't need to. She was lowering herself on his cock while making sure to keep her hand tightly over his mouth. The moans of Catalina filled the air around them as her hips began to move on him, letting herself enjoy the man in his catatonic state of shock._

_In a way, he felt as if he owed her this much. He had been... horrible. Let her kill. He was supposed to help her. Mentor her. But this felt wrong. It had to be wrong._

_"God, Nightwing... You love this. I can tell. You love this feeling. He's dead. He's gone. Just you and me."_

__  
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**8 Months Later**

Things had happened. Admittedly, rather quickly, but it still happened. Dick had floated around a while after his apartment building had been demolished by Blockbuster. But never at Wayne manor. He refused. Eventually, he had managed to slip on the Nightwing costume and mask, to forget about all of that. Even in his moments of panic, he made sure he was alone and quiet. No one knew about what happened on the rooftop. Not except Catalina and him. Wherever she was...

At some point, Dick Grayson found himself staying at his little brother's house. Well, one of his little brothers. Though, Jason had grown taller than him. But Dick would never admit to it. It was the last place he could go to. All he had left. The first few weeks had been stressful, but Dick was surprised by how much Dick had managed to get away with in the apartment with Jason. For example, the messes he often left in the kitchen or the living room... Who knew the fearsome Red Hood was a clean freak? Or the times Dick had managed to somehow get Jason to admit his cooking was good. Leftovers from Alfred, of course. But Dick could sure as hell bake some good cookies.

Only for a month had the two been an official relationship. Dick had found himself nuzzling up to Jason in his bed, or Jason trying to pull him into a loving kiss. It had been the most blissful month of his life.

Until today, at least.

"Dick, this is ridiculous! Even for you!" A huff escaped Jason as he tossed out a blood filled rag. Dick's blood.

On the couch sat Dick Grayson, staring at the mask on the table in front of him. His Nightwing costume was half on and half ripped off. The blue was slowly turning red from blood. It had been dangerous. To think he could take Slade on by himself. There were so many men surrounding him, and not a single sight of Deathstroke. A trap. "I know,"

"No, you don't. You think you can handle everything and everyone. You think you can be some pure and perfect martyr!"

The shouting and words caused Dick to tense even more. Closing his eyes tightly, he shrunk slightly away from Jason, keeping his eyes away from the other. His breathing was getting heavy. No, not now. "I-I'm sorry..." He whispered shakily. "I'll be better."

Due to Jason's help, he had managed to get cleaned up a good bit. Enough where his skin wasn't covered in blood and open wounds. But his physical health was nowhere near as bad as his mental and emotional health. There was something tugging at him. Perhaps the past threats Catalina had given at these times in their little relationship if it could even be called that. Dick wasn't very interested in feeling Jason's hand across his cheek. He needed to make it better somehow. To change to accommodate what the other wanted from him. The way Catalina had drilled into him.

"I'm sorry, Jason." Even looking away, he could feel the sharp eyes from the man in front of him. Slowly, Dick moved to his knees on the floor. He remembered how he fell to his knees right after the gun went off to announce Blockbuster's demise.

"Dick, what-"

"Don't." He breathed out quickly. His hands moved to remove the reast of the Nightwing costume so it piled on the floor. _"Good boy"_ She would say before he let her have her way with him however she pleased. He was weak. And a failure. She would turn him in if he didn't stay.

Panic flooded through Dick, his breathing quickening before looking up at Jason. He expected to see angry eyes, maybe even a fist. Hell, Dick wasn't sure of Jason's preferred way. Whatever it was, he knew he deserved it. He let Blockbuster die, let her do it. He deserved worse.

"Pretty bird, what are you doing?" Hearing Jason's soft words took Dick aback as the other began sinking to his knees next to Dick, gently moving to caress one of the bruised cheeks of Dick. His thumb was quick to wipe away the stray tear before shifting closer to the older once he knew it was okay, once he felt Dick lean into his touch. "What's going on?"

Still hanging his head, Dick was reluctant to let himself lean into the embrace Jason gave him next, letting his body slump against his. He didn't deserve this. He was a horrible person and even worse for still letting Jason comfort him. Jason couldn't know. He would find Dick repulsive, kick him to the streets, tell Bruce and Alfred, turn him in. Dick Grayson felt like a disease. He hurt everyone around him. Jason would despise him, mock him for letting her do such things. He would take advantage the same way that Catalina did. And Dick would let him because he deserved the pain. 

"I'm sorry-"

"No more apologies."

"Please... Just get it over with Jay, just do it. I can't take it anymore. You need to."

"Need to what?" Jason was now holding a naked and broken Dick Grayson in his arms, lightly stroking his arm. 

"Hurt me. I-I don't care how. I can't let you keep thinking I'm good in any way. Please, I can't take it anymore. Just hit me or-or use me I don't care. I can't take it. Please, Jason, I deserve it. I-I... I let him die..."

This was where Dick finally broke into a sob, clinging desperately to Jason who looked horrified as he held Dick as tightly as possible without hurting him. Silence filled the room now, except for Dick's heavy breaths. Eventually, a soft shushing noise filled that silence as well as Jason scooped up his pretty bird and walked towards the bedroom. The bags under Dick's eyes proved how sleep deprived he was. And how easy it was to spot each rib that proved how famished he was. Dick knew how to hide all these things well. 

As gently as possible, Jason carefully laid Dick down on the bed. The other was staring up at him through teary eyes now, having managed to calm now enough to control his breathing.

It was a good half-hour Jason sat on the bed, just stroking Dick's messy hair as he curled under the covers of the bed. Jason watched carefully, noticed how Dick's eyes never moved from the wall across the room, just staring into blankness. Dick had always been strong. But even the strongest had a breaking point. But what had caused so much pain to Dick to cause this? Whatever it was, Jason was sure to kill it. Shoot it with every gun he had- and he had quite a bit. Not only that, but he was sure to get into another shouting match with Bruce. Most of the time, it was really just Jason yelling. But how could Bruce not know? Or worse, how could he just ignore it?

"Dickiebird?" His soft voice whispered down to the man, his fingers still brushing lightly through the dark hair. "I want you to tell me how you're feeling? First word that comes to mind."

"Ashamed."

"Why?"

"I broke in front of you. I failed you... I failed everybody." His voice sounded so heavy and broken, it hurt Jason just to listen. 

Slowly and gently, Jason moved to lay down with Dick, noticing how the other tensed when he went to wrap an arm around him, so Jason gave him space. He let his hand hesitantly hover over Dick's before feeling him reach out for it. "No, no... You did no such thing." A light kiss pressed to the knuckles of Dick's hand. "You've been so strong for so long." Jason didn't want to push Dick for what was wrong. When Dick was ready, he would talk.

"Pretty bird, you make us all so proud. We look up to you." He breathed, feeling Dick now begin to curl up against Jason, feeling Nightwing tug Jason's arm so it was over Dick's waist. He held him close. "Get some sleep." He breathed out, his other hand still soothingly stroking the whisps of dark hair on his forehead. Eventually, Dick's breathing became heavy, but not in a panicked way. He was asleep, resting against Jason and holding tightly onto his hand. It wasn't long before Jason soon followed.

**Author's Note:**

> I've written another fic based on this that I will probably develop into more of a story, here it is! http://archiveofourown.org/works/11440071/chapters/25636821


End file.
